


Rescue Mission

by OwlQuill



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Gen, Role Reversal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-08-09 17:17:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7810513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlQuill/pseuds/OwlQuill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A love potion. Someone imprisoned in the Dark Forest. A Fairy Princess out to free them.</p><p>But not like that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For the "Role Reversal" Theme of Strange Magic Week.

It had taken Dawn half the night and a good deal of luck to find the Dark Forest castle. Yellow light spilled out of a sharp-toothed skull, giving it away. After alighting on a high branch nearby, Dawn checked if her wings were still dark and dull with a dusting of soot. Satisfied that she was as hard to spot as could be, she watched for a while.

The castle did not do anything very interesting. One goblin came out of the morbidly designed entrance and scampered off into the undergrowth, but that did not allow any conclusions about regular guard rounds.

Before she could convince herself that the whole plan was a bad idea, she took to the air again. No-one raised an alarm when she flitted inside, wings rustling when they brushed unexpected spikes protruding from the walls.

After clearing this strange gullet, Dawn kept close to the ceiling in an attempt to stay out of sight. The high corridors and sparse lighting helped, as did the fact that she passed no-one. Once faint murmurs drifted from a passage leading up. Dawn took a second to gather her nerves and flew on, looking for a way down. That was where she expected dungeons to be. 

Biting her lip, wondering if this place really did not have doors or if she was just missing them in the gloom, she followed a straight set of stairs, but only found a storage room filled with barrels.

The second way down led to a spiral staircase clinging to a column and looked very promising, in a way that made her stomach drop unpleasantly. Cages, their bars adorned with wicked thorns, were hung from the ceiling by thick chains.

Dawn glided down, following the spiral of the staircase to avoid bumping into any of the cages. There was faint, orange light, like in other parts of the castle when they were lit at all, but the further down she went, the more prominent a strangely cold light became. Her hope sank when every single cage was empty, and she heard no sound of anybody but her moving or breathing. But now that she’d come this far, she had to make sure.

At the bottom, in the dungeon proper, she saw the first doors in this place, tall and rust brown and closed. She landed on the dusty ground and chewed on her bottom lip, wondering how loud they would be to open. 

In a little fit of nerves she decided to investigate the blue light first. It rose from a pit under a heavy wooden grate — a particularly unpleasant cell? Through the bars she could make out dust, rotted wood debris, and suspended in a twisted branch, a cobweb orb, its silken lines glowing forget-me-not blue. Dawn squinted. There seemed to be a darker spot at the centre, an uneven lump.

The grate was ramshackle and had apparently been built to hold more massive prisoners than a young fairy, so Dawn folded her wings and slid down into the cell. 

Seeing the shadow a bit more clearly, it seemed to be a small fairy-like figure, curled up on its side to sleep, lying on thin air. “Um, hello?”

There was a flurry of movement and language coarse enough to make Dawn’s ears feel tender, until the figure inside got itself sorted out, standing upright on nothing, facing Dawn, dragonfly wings hanging down motionless. Long, thin limbs and wide shoulders topped with spiky scales, and a gravelly voice surprisingly deep for someone about the size of Dawn’s hand. “Who’re you? Plum’s idea of a joke?”

“She doesn’t know I’m here. Are you the Bog King?”

He sagged a little, looking to the side, brows drawing down yet deeper, and let out a huff. “Just Bog.”

“I’d expected someone… taller.” Dawn gestured vaguely.

“Very funny. You still haven’t told me who you are or why you’re here. Not that I wouldn’t appreciate a bit of random conversation if that’s all you’re after. How’s the weather?”

“I’m here because I need your help.”

Bog shifted to sitting cross-legged, and leaned forward. After a pointed look at his prison, he smirked. “That’s gotta be good. Before you break me out, tell me what you need help with. I might prefer staying if it’s too crazy.”

“I need to know how to neutralise love potion.” She continued over Bog’s disgusted sound. “I never got the whole story, but they say the Sugar Plum Fairy locked you up because you can beat its magic.”

Bog didn’t look at her. He’d lowered his head, cradling his forehead with one of his big, clawed hands. After a pause just long enough to start feeling awkward, he said, “Look. I’d appreciate if you’d get me out, since you’re here anyway, but deals need to be honest.” He looked her firmly in the eye. “I have no clue. Love potion did not work for me, I tried to punish her for making a fool of me. We fought, she won. I can promise to do my best to get her to give you the information you need, but not more.”

Dawn whimpered. That was not what she’d hoped for.

“Or you could just ask her, you know. What happened, anyway? Dusted a guy and getting tired of him?”

“No!” Her indignation faded as quickly as it had flared up, and she started pulling on her fingers. “My sister is under the influence. The guy she’s in love with seemed perfect at first, but now that she does everything he asks he’s totally twisted her. And… Well, it’s just all around bad.”

“Huh. Well, what are you going to do?”

“The Sugar Plum Fairy-”

“Sugar Plum Queen.”

“By her reputation I doubt she’d help me. But I don’t know how to get you out.”

“Reach in and pull me out. It’s a one-person trap.”

“Are you sure?”

“Girlie, I _made_ it. Yes, I’m sure. Are you sure it’s worth the risk?”.

“What risk?”

“Just wondering how the Queen of the Dark Forest might take it when a subject of the Fairy King frees her favourite prisoner. She is a tad erratic. The consequences might get serious.”

Dawn’s brows drew together, her eyes narrowing. Her lips nearly disappeared. “What’d happen if I don’t free Marianne from that cockroach’s influence would be worse. Here.”

She reached a hand into the glowing orb, surprising them both with the sudden gesture. It seemed to shrink once inside; Dawn squeezed her eyes shut and turned away. When she felt Bog’s hand wrapping around her wrist, huge, rough, with long nails pressing into her skin, she grabbed hold of his - a weird construction half made of armour plates - and pulled.

There was resistance that disappeared suddenly. Dawn fell backward, landing on her backside with her folded wings pressed against the wall of the pit. When she opened her eyes, a giant shadow loomed over her, hands braced over her shoulders.

“Eep!”

“You did expect someone taller. You said.” Bog’s grin was crooked, but he stepped back and offered a hand to help Dawn up. Even stooping to not hit his head on the grate, he was taller than her.

“So what do we do now?”

“I need to talk to some goblins. Sugar Plum… I can either ask her for help, or try to force her. That would be another fight. Anyway, first thing is, we get out of here. You first, I need a minute for the trap.”

He lifted the grate at one side and cupped one hand for Dawn to use it as a step to help her out, before turning his attention to the orb. He gestured briefly over it, making the light swirl and constrict, drawing all of the glow into a mote. Holding it between thumb and index finger, he considered a moment, then swallowed it.

The curved stick holding the now grey and lightless cobweb orb went through the grate first. Dawn got it out of the way. Climbing out of the pit while holding up the grate with one hand was awkward, and the thing was too heavy for Dawn’s efforts to make much of a difference, but with some irritated grumping and scraping of chitinous exoskeleton on wood, he made it.

Once outside where he could straighten up, Bog stretched, joints popping. “Aaah, good to be in a proper place again.”

“Proper place?”

“Are you familiar with veil magic?” When she shook her head, he shrugged. “Too long story for now, then.” He grabbed his former prison and gestured with it for the fairy to follow, heading up the stairs. With a look back over his shoulder at the little fairy with her soot-covered wings, dark dress and bright, childlike eyes, he said, “So. Would you prefer tagging along, or would you rather sneak out for me to find you later if I succeed?”

Dawn looked up at him grimly, her chin jutting out. “I’ll watch your back.”

Bog accepted the offer with a slow nod and a smile, warmed both by amusement and appreciation of the sentiment. “What’s your name, anyway?”

“Dawn.”

Bog climbed a full spiral of the stairs to give a shocking suspicion time to fade or sink in. It did the latter. It might still be wrong, but he had to ask. “Your sister is Marianne?”

“Yes.”

“Is your father’s name Dagda?”

“Um. Yes?”

Bog sighed deeply. “So that’s the crown princess who’s under a spell.”

“Yes. And Roland, the guy who has her under a spell, is planning to march on the Dark Forest as soon as he has the authority. For glory, or something. Sooo…”

“Not much reason to worry about your little adventure here causing the Dark Forest to attack first. I see.” His next sigh had a bit of a growl mixed in. “Wonderful.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bog King is loose in his old castle, now ruled by the Sugar Plum Fairy. What will that lead to?

Dawn followed Bog’s lead. The scrape and clicking of his armour echoed faintly, but they arrived at the entrance she had avoided because there were noises coming from there without incident. He hesitated, but leaned towards it.

“Do you want to go in there?” Dawn whispered, hovering behind Bog to get closer to his ear. It made him twitch a little bit, as if the sound of her voice had surprised her.

“Yeah. I need to ask some questions. Of goblins.” He held out the stick with the inert cobweb orb to her. “Take this. Hold this for me. Stay hidden. Be careful.”

“You too.”

He gave her a nod before stalking into the deeper dark of the corridor leading to the sleeping quarters. He could hear a lot of people’s calm breath, and some people snoring. There was light filtering through the central column, which was open to the sky, and between that and his memory and carefully feeling his way, Bog made it to the first cubby. Behind a coarse weave curtain was a small room with… two cots? Giving his eyes a few moments to adjust, Bog considered, but speculation proved superfluous when behind a potato-shaped lump the expected size, he made out the characteristic snapper face, this one with one antenna shorter than the other. So Stuff and Thang were sharing quarters now? Well, good for them.

After hesitating briefly - this could go very wrong - he ducked inside and, kneeling next to the cot, leaned close to his former right hand, and whispered. “Stuff? Stuff, wake up.” After a bit more of that, and a quiet grumble from the smaller goblin, Stuff opened her eyes a little, grumbled, and squinted.

She sat up and breathed in; Bog raised a hand. “Quiet, please. I just have a few questions.”

She threw her hands over her mouth and took a moment to gather her wits. In a strained whisper she said, “Sire? You’re back?!”

“It’s complicated. Listen, Stuff, this is important.”

“Yes?”

“First, how is my mother?” She had visited him a few times, but that seemed to have stopped long ago, if he could trust his feeling of time.

“I’m not sure…”

“What happened to her?” Bog tensed, his wings flicking involuntarily. If Sugar Plum had harmed her, he would find a way to make her regret it.

“Not– nothing as far as I know. I mean, after the third time she tried to free you, the, the new queen banished her from the castle. Griselda said she would go and visit her cousins out East. Haven’t heard from her, good or bad, since.”

Well. That deferred that question until later. Bog hoped she was all right, and tried to not feel too relieved that he would not have to deal with her meddling right now. He settled back.

“Is the Sugar Plum Fairy a good queen?”

His answer was silence. Bog sighed. “No test, no trick. I want to know if I need to try to take her down, or if she can stay were she is. I want an honest answer.” 

“Well, she’s… different? She lifted the ban on love, er.”

Bog made a dismissive gesture. “I know it wasn’t popular. What about consequences? Is the Dark Forest in chaos?”

“I’m afraid not? I mean, not more than usual. She… does a decent job at arbitering problems brought before her. She couldn’t wrap her head around logistics, but she found or had trained good people for it. Winter stores were very good last year even though the year was nothing special. And she’s working on trade deals with the fairies, but being careful about it and humouring the elders…”

“Sounds good. I shall trust your judgement.”

“Sorry, sire? What will you do?”

“Talk to her. I have no intention of causing trouble, but I need to talk to her. Could you arrange that?”

“How…?”

“Just give me a few minutes’ headstart, then tell her about it. I’ll wait in the throne room.”

“As you say, sire.”

“Thank you. And to avoid… misunderstandings, how about if you call me Bog.”

“Uh. I’ll try to remember.”

“Good.”

Bog retreated from the cubby, where Stuff started hissing something at Thang. Bog took to the wing when he reached the small corridor leading out of the main tower, and in the main corridor alighted and looked around for Dawn. 

She floated down from the ceiling. “Everything all right?”

“Yeah, we should be able to see the Sugar Plum Queen soon. Come on.” He led her with the confidence of someone moving through his own home, for that’s what this castle was. He had grown up here. It was strange to think that it was not his any more but… He had spent a lot of time isolated, alone, and without any responsibilities. He couldn’t say he missed trying to get several hordes of goblins organised and impressed enough to avoid anyone challenging him.

The throne room was lit by a half moon casting a slanted pillar of light through the glassed skylight onto the weathered floor. Bog considered taking station in the shadows near the wall opposite the throne to get a chance at something resembling an entrance, and instead stood close to the set of stairs that led into the slightly higher part of the room which held the throne.

Bog turned to Dawn and held out his hand. She gave him the cobweb orb immediately, and then didn’t quite seem to know what to do with her hands. She looked around at the different entrances and niches and holes.

“What’s going to happen?”

“Someone, or some people are going to show up. I hope it will be the Sugar Plum Queen and maybe a few goblins. We will tell her about the danger for the kingdom and then… we’ll see what happens. Or she doesn’t trust me and sends in goblins she trusts to take me prisoner again. Or she weaves a spell I didn’t know she had.” Whatever happened, it would be more interesting than his day would have been if Dawn had not shown up. But the fairy princess had obviously been prepared for stealth. “Would you prefer to leave now?”

She straightened out her arms at her sides, hands balled to fists. “I’ll stay. I’ll tell them about Roland. I’ve met him. That’s better. First-hand information is more reliable, and I can answer questions.”

“Thank you.” Bog gave her a slight bow, which drew a smile from her.

Silence played on their nerves, ragging their edges. Bog found that looking up into the moonlight was soothing. There were half-formed thoughts in the back of his head wanting to link it with the light of the orb prison, but they dissipated when a bluer light entered the throne room in a swoop. The sounds of goblins coming closer followed.

The Sugar Plum Fairy hovered a way left and above the throne, looking at the former king with narrowed eyes. Half a dozen goblins emerged from the corridor she had come out of and spread out. Gaze flicking to the soot-covered fairy, she said, “I guess that answers how you freed yourself. You didn’t.”

Bog, the stick with the dark cobweb orb in his left, bowed to her, making her float upwards a little and curl her tail in surprise. “Please don’t hold it against her, your majesty. She has important news.”

Floating closer to them slowly, she asked, “Bog, what are you playing at? I was expecting a fight and you disappoint me!”

“I don’t want to fight. I want to talk.” He could hear more goblins behind him, above him. He didn’t have to look around to know they were coming out of various cubbyholes to watch. There were awed sounds and hisses and whispers. His wings flicked in irritation and he fought down an impulse to flare his pauldrons to look bigger. “We want to talk.”

Dawn, who was standing a step right and behind him, leaned to the right to look around him, and waved the fingers of one hand at the queen. The whispers grew louder. More voices. “It’s really him!” “What will happen now?” “If they fight, who do you back?” “Betcha we’ll have a king again tomorrow.”

Was the whole crew waking up and flooding the throne room? But even if, it shouldn’t make Bog nervous enough for his wings to jitter. He seemed to be able to hear every single voice clearly, but it made it hard to focus on Plum, and reading her right was absolutely necessary.

“Talk, you say? I’m supposed to believe that?”

“Rip off his wings this time!” someone yelled from the back of the room.

“He’s a goblin, you traitor!”

The queen raised her voice, making Bog flinch. “Stop it right now!” It got the attention of nearby goblins, but not those arguing at the back of the great hall.

Bog turned, aghast. Outside a quiet circle around the queen, more arguments broke out. Bog tried to reach for the authority he used to be able to command, but he couldn’t think, each voice getting a hook into his attention and they all dragging it into different directions.

Then a painfully high voice screamed, drawn out, “QUIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET!”

When Dawn’s scream faded, every goblin was covering their ears, including Bog, who had dropped the stick. The orb remained undamaged. Bog was not so sure about his hearing.

The fairy princes gave a decisive little nod. “Queen Aura, please let us talk somewhere more privately. It will most likely be more productive.”

“Maybe. Who are you, under all that dirt?”

She hesitated a bare moment. “I’m Princess Dawn, Dagda’s daughter, princess of the Fair Fields.”

“Oh, cute. Well, if you say you have important news, I might listen.” She pointed at the prison Bog had built for her, and her voice dropped to a snarl. “But that thing stays here, active or not!”

“What?” Bog’s ears were still ringing.

The Sugar Plum Fairy caught Dawn’s eye, then looked at Bog and waved in an unmistakable gesture for them to follow, before floating to an empty hole far above ground.

Dawn pointed at the stick, then made a warding gesture. “That stays here.” She pointed at Bog, then herself, then Sugar Plum. “We follow.”

Bog nodded, and they both took to the air. Dawn stopped, fluttering, finding the hole smaller than expected, and indeed too small for her wings. Bog held out an arm. “I know that route,” he said louder than necessary. “I can carry you.”

Hesitating a few moments, looking down at the agitated goblins, Dawn finally nodded and slung her arms around Bog’s neck before furling her wings. He pulled her towards him, his narrow, vibrating wings taking them through the dark, winding hole safely.

When they reached a small platform at the end of the tunnel, Bog thought his hearing was going back to normal, judging by the sound and echo of his wings. In the silence after landing, he said quietly, “Uh. Thank you. That was… necessary.”

“I saw how nervous it made you. You wings…”

Bog cleared his throat. “I’m not used to crowds any more, it seems. Anyway. Thanks. But. Please don’t do that again when I’m standing next to you.”

“Oh. OK.”

“Good.”

Around a corner there was amber light mixed with blue in a study that had once been his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bad news is that I've run out of rough draft to edit on this one, and will most likely update other stories before this... Sorry 'bout that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawn, Bog and the Sugar Plum Queen try to come up with a plan how to save a lovedusted Marianne.

From the small, enclosed landing, an open doorway led into an office lit by orange glowstones and, just now, the Sugar Plum Queen’s own glow. She had settled behind the big, scratched-up desk that faced the other entrance, a proper door, hovering just above the chair set there, playing at sitting in it despite being not bound by gravity.

Bog pulled up two chairs for Dawn and himself, noting that there had been only slight changes in this room. The honeycombed walls were still mostly holding scrolls and ledgers. Aura had merely brought in some small plants that now nested in hazelnut or chestnut shells in some of the cells.

Dawn thanked him with a nod and sat in a studied pose, spine erect and hands on her lap.

The Sugar Plum Queen waved negligently. “So tell me those news. This should be interesting.”

“Sir Roland Green used the love potion you gave him on Marianne. Against her will.”

“Oh well. I’m sure she doesn’t mind right now.” Aura leaned forward, bunching her hands under her chin, and her voice fell into a singsong. “Falling in loooove is such a wonderful feeling.”

Bog scoffed, but it was Dawn who kept talking, her voice now sharp. “But she would mind if she were in her right mind.” Then even a sarcastic tone crept in. “However, if you don’t care about that, you should consider that once being married to the crown princess, or maybe even the queen, gives him the required authority, Roland is going to invade the Dark Forest!”

Aura’s sparkly brows rose up close to her blue crown, and her lips pursed, showing no hint of a smile.

“No love-potion, no marriage. No marriage, no war.” Dawn leaned forward and pointed to Aura with one hand. “We need an antidote!”

The Sugar Plum Queen floated forward until she hit the edge of the table and raised her hands in a harsh gesture. “Too bad there is no antidote.”

“Are you serious?” Bog rumbled.

“Yes. There is none. The potion wears off on its own.” She looked up and her fingers ran through a rippling gesture. “In a fairy… it should take about a year.” Bog gave Princess Dawn a sideways glance. She seemed surprised, too. “The idea is to give a wanted relationship a smooth start, long enough to grow into something more solid than infatuation, you know.”

Dawn bit her lip, looking at the ceiling while calculating. “Marianne has been like this since Midsumer, and the wedding is planned for next Spring.” Her voice rose in pitch, going tight. “That’s too early.”

“Princess, what about exposing Roland? Would Dagda allow the marriage to go forward if he knew the… love was a sham?”

“I tried to tell him, but he didn’t believe me. Marianne acts a lot like just before the wedding she cancelled.”

“A fairy in love cancelled a wedding?” Bog burst out.

“I know, right? Er, that was a wedding with Roland that she called off. On the day it was supposed to happen. She was wearing her bridal dress already and everything. It’s why I’m absolutely certain she does not want to marry Roland.”

“I’m convinced.” Aura spoke quickly. “Considering the threat of possible war, it would probably be best if Bog took back his throne. I’m not much of a war person.”

“No.”

“What do you mean, No?” Aura flitted across the table, leaning into Bog’s face. “You can’t do this to me!”

Bog raised both hands in a warding gesture and spoke as calmly as he could. “I can advise you, and there are others–”

“Forget the war!” She spread her arms and seemed to grow, or maybe grow brighter, her cool blue light crowding out the warm orange from the lamps. “I can’t take the dreariness any longer. Every other thing I need to decide on is petty nonsense, and the paperwork, the paperwork! It’s maddening!”

Bog couldn’t keep a grin off his face, crossed one leg over the other, and folded his hands. Sweetly, he asked, “Isn’t it just? So why would I want it back?”

“Bog… do you really–” The feeling in Dawn’s voice - hurt, disappointment, something - washed all amusement out of Bog’s mood and from his demeanour. He sat up and gestured to her.

“The problem is that I’m not certain I’m capable.” He nodded in Dawn’s direction. “You noticed. Being surrounded by a crowd left me unable to speak for confusion. I don’t know how fast and how well I will, hrm, heal from that.” He shrugged, a gesture that with his pauldrons was particularly eloquent.

The Sugar Plum Queen looked at him, back behind the desk, lips flat and eyes narrowed. “In that case… maybe the easiest way to avoid war would be handing the Amber to Roland.”

“What?!” Bog jumped to his feet and went into a crouch, wings twitching, ready to attack. “Are you mad?”

“I’m just thinking of the good of the people of this realm. A war will cost many lives, and he doesn’t have to conquer what he already owns.”

“I’m not sure,” Dawn piped up, “but I don’t think it’s the owning he cares about. He talks about glorious battles and fights so much…”

“What a lovable character,” Bog sneered, his claws leaving a few more scratches in the desk. With a sound halfway between a sigh and a snarl, he straightened up, then addressed Aura. “Unless things are a lot more different now than I knew them, it would never work. The goblins would revolt.”

“All right all right. Let’s keep it as last option in case everything else fails, maybe. So how to prevent the marriage? Is there someone else she might have been almost in love with?”

“Why?” Dawn’s eyes looked bigger than ever.

“The potion doesn’t work, or its effect is ended early, if the target is already in love with someone else. Failsafe, see?”

“A working antidote would be a better failsafe,” Bog groused. Since the study was too small to pace effectively, he had settled again.

“That would just put the decision about these things in someone else’s hands. Plus, there just isn’t one that works. There have been many attempts, and the only promising ones involved erasing the victim’s whole personality, for ever, and we don’t want that, do we.”

“No!”

“Good. So, candidate for potion-effect-breaking?”

Dawn shook her head slowly. “Really not. She’d sworn she’d never fall in love again.”

“Sounds like a very sensible person, for a fairy princess.” Bog had to let off steam somehow.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re brave. Sensible, I’m not sure about. Consider where you are right now.” Dawn leaned back a little when Bog gestured in her direction with a clawed hand.

Aura rested her finger tips against her forehead and temples. “Bog, I don’t believe _I’m_ saying that to _you_ , but let’s _focus_!”

“Oh, all right, your majesty.” He gave her a hint of a bow and cleared his throat before continuing matter-of-factly. “I guess there isn’t any chance of getting Dagda to pressure her into marrying someone else for political reasons, is there? You fairies still do that sometimes?”

“Uhh.” Dawn leaned away from Bog again, lips curled in disgust. “Yeah, political marriages are a thing, but not very common. But Roland is third in line for the Duchy of Green Glenn, and the two before him are married or engaged already. Any any other candidates are either kids, or old, or married, or prefer guys, so there is no better match at the moment.” A corner of her mouth twitched up and she gave a courtly nod in Bog’s direction. “Well, maybe apart from the King of the Dark Forest.” 

Bog’s eyes went huge, his skin even more gray-green than it was, and his mind absolutely blank.

Aura giggled.

Dawn gave a helpless little shrug. “Anyway, I don’t think Father would force Marianne into a political marriage. He wants her happy.”

Bog muttered, “But forcing her into a marriage using love potion is all right?”

“She does seem happy.” Bog’s distaste must have come through, for Dawn repeated her shrug. “I don’t like it either, it’s just what it looks like if you ignore how much she loathed Roland. She seems just like she used to be before. Father thinks she’s finally come to her senses.”

Aura floated up and got their attention with an expansive gesture. “All right, then. No-one she’s likely to fall in love with for real, no-one to marry her to prevent her from marrying Roland. And her father revoking permission for the marriage just after being told she’s under a spell is out, too, because he already knows.”

“What a father.”

“Shush, unless you have a productive suggestion.”

Bog took a deep breath to tamp down his temper. “Have you picked up on anything else that could convince Dagda that Roland is a scoundrel rather than a suitable groom?”

Dawn shook her head. 

Bog harrumped, and after short consideration asked, “How do you feel about assassination?”

Dawn considered for a rather long time. “I don’t think I could actually kill anyone…”

“I meant more generally–”

“That is a cute idea, and Dawn rather looks the part right now, but there are two problems with it. First, if any thing, just the smallest thing went wrong and it came out the Dark Forest was linked to it, we would have a war, anyway. And second, if Roland died or disappeared, Marianne might waste away from heartbreak, or go flitting off trying to find him and get herself eaten by a crow. The love potion is powerful.”

Bog groaned. This was impossible. “So what about kidnapping her and keeping her prisoner until the potion wears off? Same danger?”

“Yes, plus it’s also not particularly conductive to the diplomatic links we’ve been trying to forge.”

“If done right, no-one needs to know where she is.” Bog looked at Dawn. “If someone she trusts lures her away. There are enough secret places in the Dark Forest where a prisoner could be kept hidden.”

“Very risky. If the secret get out, we’re looking at a war, after all.”

“Not that risky. If– sorry, Princess, but, If Dagda found out we had his daughter and heir, he would know attacking the Forest would mean putting her in danger.”

“Even if, that leaves the same risk as before, keeping her away from Roland might break her heart. Someone who is lovedusted is obsessed with the object of their affections, wanting to be close to them, doing whatever makes them happy…”

Bog grumped, and all three of them fell silent for a few moments.

Dawn, who had been chewing her knuckles, spoke first. “Maybe we can use that. If she believes Roland wants her far from him, temporarily…” Her brows knit and face drawn in unaccustomed lines, she slowly laid out pieces of a plan that the Sugar Plum Queen and the former Bog King agreed might just work. 

At least they could not come up with anything better.


End file.
